sense of duty

 Awoke, and reflected that today being Saturday it would be a nice thing to remain in bed. Enjoyed said nice feeling for an hour and then the bad conscience threw the bedclothes on the floor and forced a shower, then got dressed and made the bed. It was just guilt, there was no real reason there at all.

Downstairs, in the shop, make breakfast, make toast, have some coffee, that is all in order. The coffee is from that bag of the cheap stuff, it is not good. But it is warm and bitter.

Test a few things and talk to the son. He is sensitive about many things, it is not always easy. He agrees to help with the installation of a router. That is kind of him. The wife has gone off somewhere on her bicycle, she has no need of her husband.

Go to the main street, to the coffee shop, and buy a quarter pound of the good espresso coffee. That will last for the next few days.

Spend the afternoon with the artist, he is discussing the ability to  set up barriers and divides in his studio. Go to the building suppliers with him, and spend some time looking at the available gadgets. Decide that a visit to the more professional builders suppliers will be necessary on Monday.

There is a constant feeling of stress, and yet the day is balmy.

There is no great future in many things. Go home, and eat the Kebap that the artist had given as a treat.

It will be necessary to visit the Argentine later on in the local pub.  There is no great wish to do this now, but there is a sense of duty.